The Armageddon
by Syvamiete
Summary: The world didn't end 12-21-2012. The modern infrastructure just collapsed and took the human society with it. The post-apocalyptic world saw through the Reaper's eyes.
1. Chapter 1: Overtime

**AN: **Hohoo, my first fan fiction idea, which had ended up been written down. As all of my ideas, this was born as a lucky coincident of several things (I happened to read 'The Thanatos Initiative' by The Chainsaw Juliet same week as my room-mate read an article about the people preparing for the end of the Mayan calendar in her pronunciation exam. So the credit for those who it belongs). I don't have any idea where this'll lead to; I have only some basic ideas in my mind. As most of the writers, I'm quite blind to my own errors (*cough, army green cauliflowers, *cough), so bear with me. All possible errors and irrationalities will be corrected immediately after I found them.

**Disclaimer: **I own only the plot and OCs. Everything else belongs to a creative mastermind, known as Yana Toboso. *bows deeply

**Warning: **May occasionally contain a bit strong language and violence, depends on how sadistic I'll become while writing this. Not yaoi.

**Chapter 1: Overtime**

William leaned back in his dark office chair and raised his eyes to the white ceiling with an exhausted sigh. Fatigue and frustration were clear at his face as he slowly lowered his gaze to the mess that has almost imperceptibly conquered his desk during the past couple of weeks. Sighing again he adjusted his glasses and began to sort out the flood of the papers into several stacks. _Really, what on earth they are thinking_, he thought surly. _35 reapers for over 8 million human. They got to be kidding. That's practically impossible._ Practically. That was the loophole they had used to justify keeping us understaffedfor as long as he could remember. When he had pointed out that he had only 28 full-timers, they have just told they have faith on him because he had earlier managed to do small miracles with that staff and that the situation couldn't really be as he insisted. After he had remarked, politely, that the London had grown since the number of staff had been previously checked and they already worked at their limits, they gave him six Reapers for the duration of the current situation and showed some statistics stating that he should be more than fine with that.

He straightened one of the stacks a bit more briskly than necessary. _I don't know where the hell they get those statistics, but I have a pretty good idea where they can put-_

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He straightened slightly, breathed deep checking his outfit and made sure to wipe all the signs of fatigue and irritation from his face. "Come in."

The door opened and a tall brunette stepped in balancing a thick pile of paper in her right hand and a cup of coffee in the left. "Almost everyone is already here, sir," she said putting the cup on the varnished surface of the desk, which had been just been discovered under the papers. "I thought you would need this."

"Thank you, Judith."

"Here are the papers for the consent to extend the working hours." She flipped through the pile in her hand, divided it in two and gave the smaller part to him. "And these are the copies of the Main Branch's instructions you asked," she put the rest on the corner of the table. "Would you need anything else?" she asked glancing at the already partly straightened mess.

William also eyed it and a hint of irritation creep back at his face. "Would you please ask Misters Eliot, Bayley, Miller, Wells and Reilly here?"

"Yes, of course."

* * *

"Shit!" he muttered under his breath glancing at his wristwatch. _I'm already late! Will will kill me for sure!_ And with that he sprinted towards the Dispatch Division's wing.

After almost five minutes running (who the hell decided to put all departments in to a one huge building?) he finally dashed through the door into the main room and collapsed into his chair panting violently.

"I hope it was worth running," a voice from his left said.

He raised his head to see Eric grinning at him.

"I…. I…."he waved his hand trying to control his breath.

"Hmm, Ronald," Alan said leaning past Eric. "You have something on your face." He touched his own cheek. "There."

"And on your neck," Eric added grinning even wider.

Ronald looked puzzled and rubbed his cheek. To his horror he realised it was pink lipstick.

"It actually suits you," continued Eric.

Ronald just scowled at him and keeps on rubbing. "Is it off?"

Alan tilted his head a little and looked at him thoughtfully. "It's hard to say. Now your whole cheek is red. But at least now no-one can distinguish it from your skin."

Ronald has finally starting to get some kind of control over his breath, so he could start to pay more attention for his surroundings. "At least I wasn't the only one late," he pointed out referring to five empty tables in the otherwise crowded room.

"No, only you were late," Alan said. "They're already in William's office."

Ronald let his glance go again around the room to check who were missing. There was only two reason why one would be invited into the dragon's den: to get the lousiest assignment one could possible imagine, which usually meant lots of overtime, or either to get an earful for screwing up the said job, which in turn always meant overtime. Reilly's chaotic desk was empty, and Eliot and Miller were nowhere to be seen… It seemed that all of the absent five were the most seasoned ones from the Division. In fact, if you would have added Eric and Grell, you would have had a list about all Reapers with over 200 years' experience.

A man with auburn curly hair waved at him across the room. Ronald waved back to Attlee, who had been transferred from the Dispatch to the General Affairs almost 70 years ago. _This must be something huge, 'cause they've got everyone with some amount of experience about reaping_. Something like this hadn't happened since WWII. He glanced across the room at Grell spinning in his office chair filing his nails and remembered how he had spent the war. Just as the war has started he had been in a relationship he thought would actually lead somewhere, so ending up God knows where for God knows how long didn't seemed so appealing. So he had collected all his courage and went to ask Will, if it would be possible to get an assignment which wouldn't mean spending weeks at the request had been followed by a long silence. He didn't had the foggiest idea what went through the supervisor's head, but he had been sure he would get a harangue about evading work and been send to in the middle of nowhere. But William had just smiled a little and said he would see what he could do. And he had really held up his end. While all the others had been assigned to field work he had get to stay in the office. Sure it was dull and he had to look after some inexperienced reapers who would have just got themselves killed if been sent out there, but all in all it shouldn't have been that bad. Only thing was that as a sign of his twisted sense of humour Will had also assigned Grell to stay at the office. And where Ronald saw office work as necessary evil, Grell utterly loathed it. He shuddered for the memory. In the end he had just ended up to make sure Grell didn't traumatized newbies too much.

_Good help me if he does that again_. He didn't know what was happening, actually nobody seemed to know, but one thing was sure: this would mean overtime.

* * *

After the meeting with the group leaders, it was finally time to inform the rest of the Division. William wasn't practically excited about that. Main Branch had advised all the management personnel to refrain from charring information with employees before the official announcement. He knew the secretiveness had created rumours, but so far no-one knew anything more than that something big was going to happen. It was understandable that the management didn't want to announce it to everyone: as radical decision as this was sure to arouse objection. And the later they would get to know about it, the less time they would have to hinder the process. But even though he understood the reason, it didn't mean he would have approved the means, but because he hadn't any better solution to offer, he kept his mouth shut.

The conversation died the moment they returned to the main room. He could almost feel all the inquisitive looks. Everyone's attention was turned towards him. _Good, I'm not going to say this twice._

"In six days there will be massive spike in the quantity of the souls to be inspected. We do not yet know how long this spike will last, so some precautions had been made to ensure that things go as smoothly as possible. First of all everyone will be staying onduty until the Personnel Department states otherwise." He ignored the horrified expressions and the moaning mainly from Knox, who had slumped over his desk. "Secondly, to optimise the time usage all the Dispatch officers are divided into groups. Each group will be responsible for the inspections in the area of its own. Each group will also be living in the area in a place provided by the General Affairs Department." Now all the expressions of objection were turned into a shocked silence. He struggled slightly to keep his face expressionless. "And lastly, to keeps things flowing, everyone is asked to limit his trips between the Reaper Realm and the Human World to the absolute minimum."

"What the fuck is this?!" One of the younger Reapers was the first one to get his voice back and his ability to move bouncing up from his chair. "Why aren't we told this before? Are you just going to dump us there and leave on our own?"

William met the protester's eyes. He could feel the irritation building inside him and some of it managed to creep to his face. For five seconds the other hold his gaze, but then the surface of the table become suddenly very fascinating and slowly he slumped back to his chair. "I would like Mr Taylor to mind his tongue in the office. But what comes to his interjection, this are only orders I've received from the Main Branch. I would recommend you to give them any possible feedback you may have directly to them."

For a while nobody dared to say anything. William did his best trying not to reveal his own discomfort. Finally Eric was the first to break the silence: "What's amount of souls we are now talking about?"

"The total number is not clear yet, but estimates for the couple of first weeks in the London area are from 500 to over 6000 every day."

"Every day? What the hell is going to happen that daily kills over 6000 people?"

"We not have the whole picture yet, but it is seems to be partially natural, partially social global disaster."

They looked each other astonished and William knew the feeling: it sounded much like the end of the world.

"The places of residence are made to last most of the disasters one can imagine." '_Most of', how assuring_. "The General Affairs also provides all the basic necessities; you need to take only your personal belongings with you. But remember you have to be able to carry them by yourself. A list of things you may find useful to take is provided in the official instructions your group leaders will give to you. Now, after I've announced the groups and their areas, discuss with your group leaders about the details of your assignment." He dug a neatly folded paper from his breast pocket and adjusted his glasses. He had spent a few sleepless nights working on it. _Better now than at the field_.

"The first group's leader is Mr Eliot. His group members are Misters Kingsley, Clarkson, Taylor, Powell and Messer. Their area consists of the boroughs of Brent, Ealing, Hounslow, Harrow, Hillingdon and Richmond upon Thames The second group…" While he kept reading the list which caused different kinds of reaction depending how satisfied they were about the decisions.

"And finally the sixth group," he read, "includes Misters Slingby, Humphries, Sutcliff, Knox and me." He didn't have to look to know who the excited squeal belong to. "Our area is composed of the boroughs of City of London, the City of Westminster, Kensington and Chelsea, Hammersmith and Fulham, Tower Hamlets, Hackney, Islington and Camden. From there on your group leaders will be advising you in any problems you may have. Now if anyone don't have anything to add, you are all dismissed."

It was three days for the start of the official state of emergency. William stood in the one of the narrow alleys of the Whitechapel. Knox had surprisingly been the first one to arrive, and now he just stood there bored poking slush with his shoe. They mood at the alley was anything but cheerful. Neither of them had spoken in several minutes. Others hadn't come yet. Alan and Eric were coming straight from the shift so they had told they would be late, but Sutcliff…_He and Knox seems to form a law of nature of sort: they can't both be at the right place at the right time._

And speaking of the devil, a familiar voice drifted around the nearest street corner: "Hmph, proper gentlemen would help a lady with her luggage."

"Sorry, but the order was that you have to be able to carry all the things you take," said Alan smile audible in his voice as he, Grell and Eric stepped around the corner. William raised his brows seeing the amount of packages Grell was dragging. Where the others had just a few bags, he had one big red suitcase, a backpack and at least three smaller bags. He noticed the look William gave him and shuffled at him flashing a flirtatious smile and ran his hand on his chest. "I may be stuck here for months with your boys, so why not take advantage of it?"

"So where exactly are we going to stay?" Eric asked ignoring Grell's remark.

William peeled Grell's hand off and pulled a paper and a bunch of keys from his jacket's pocket. "Third door on right." he told after checking.

The door was painted green as the contrast for the red brick wall. William selected an old-fashioned key and opened the door leading them into a small deserted apartment. It only consisted of a kitchen, living room and tiny bedroom with a bathroom next to it. While Grell struggled with his suitcase and the sill, William walked to the bedroom.

On the far side of the room there was a door seeming to lead into a walk-in closet. But when he opened it, there weren't empty selves, but an army green steel door.

Ronald peeked in. "Someone seems to have more than just skeletons in the closet."

"This was originally a secret base for the intelligence during the Cold War. The number for the lock is 9473," William told while rolling the numbers to the panel at the door. It made a soft click and when he pushed the handle, it opened slightly squeaking in to a dark stairway. After a bit of fumbling he found the switch and a weak pale light illuminated the cold concrete steps.

"It has of course been renovated since then. We have our own generator, pluming and air condition, so we're not depending on the outside world. It has been designed to quarter seven intelligence officers, so the room should not be a problem." He reached the end of the stairs and was welcomed by a grey concrete hallway with three plane wood doors on each side of it.

"Cosy," Eric stated behind him. He knew they were thinking the same thing.

He, Knox and Eric walked into the kitchen area at the end of the hallway while Alan stayed behind keeping the door for Grell. The same shades of grey and brown were repeated there. Only things that seemed to be from this century were the coffee machine, the fridge-freezer combination and the watercan.

"It's heart-warming to see how much effort they have put into a decoration," Eric said eyeing the flower-patterned table cloth someone had put on the dining table for six people.

From the stairway was heard a stream of swear words and a loud thud. Sutcliff had apparently dripped to his heels. The door squeaked as Alan finally let go for it.

"Good bye, freedom," Ronald mumbled as the door thumped shut.


	2. Chapter 2: The Lights

**AN: **I have become into two conclusions so far: 1. The length of the chapters will vary greatly depending how much details I'll invent. 2. Unlike a thought, Grell is a pain in the ass to write. All the others are easy to predict and write, but Grell… I don't have a clue how he's going to react or what he's thinking. I may have to dig deeper for my inner Sutcliff.

**Disclaimer: **I own only the plot and OCs. Everything else belongs to a creative mastermind, known as Yana Toboso. *bows deeply

**Chapter 2: The Lights**

The cold wind swirled snow around. Temperature had dropped clearly under zero, and breath steamedbut many people had still ventured out to do Christmas shopping.

Alan gave way for a grey family car crawling in the crowd and turned from the Piccadilly to the quieter side street. Christmas lights decorated the shop windows and street lamps. Snow had piled up to the side of the houses. _Eric wouldn't appreciate it_. He hated winter from the bottom of his heart. He had never explained why. Like when Ronald had asked about it this morning. 'As a kid I was ones left outdoors. It was really cold and I had to spend a whole night in the snow. I almost freeze to death,' he had told blankly. 'Really?' Ronald hadn't known how to react. 'No,' Eric had slapped him on the back of the head. 'Now, stop asking stupid and do something productive.'

His thoughts were interrupted by flickering street lamp. As from a sign, all the lights went dark. Dusk fell to the street. From the either end of the street didn't see any glow. He raised his gaze to the darkening sky. Even the constant light pollution of the London area was gone. _Have to be one hell of blackout_.

Gradually his eyes started to adjust to the sudden change in the light and he started to distinguish them. Across the sky, there were dozens of waves of green and red light. As he watched them, they slowly changed colour and shape never stopping into one form.

He had ones saw the similar light display. He tried to remember the name. _Aurora, it was called aurora. But normally it was seen only in the polar region._ Last time when it was seen at these latitudes, it had caused disturbances in the telegraphy. There was a high possibility it had caused the blackout.

_At least this isn't the most horrible possible start for the End of the World._

* * *

It was quiet at the bunker. Grell sighed and sat up in his bed. Everything was just so dull and… grey. He had done his best but still… He eyed the room. Even though he had tried to make it personal by scattering his stuff everywhere it didn't still it didn't fade the general bleakness of everything. It was actually amazing how easily Will and Ronald had agreed with the room arrangement. While Eric and Alan volunteered to share the other triple room, Will and Ronald had automatically took single rooms, leaving the other triple room for him alone. _Well, _he shrugged. _More room for me_.

Who would have thought this would have become this boring this quickly? They had been here only a day and a half and already he hadn't anything to do. Humans were so boring; they just did their mundane chores always hurrying to somewhere. It would take a couple of days before anything even remotely interesting would happen. He glanced at the pile of books on his desk. Reading didn't inspired either. And Ronald, Eric and Alan were reaping, so he didn't even have anyone to talk to. It didn't leave him any options.

He stood up and walked to the hallway. There he stopped for a moment wavering between two possibilities soon deciding to bet on the roof.

_This isn't a good idea_, a small voice in the back of his head warned. _You know how he's been lately. I don't think it's wise to push him any further_.

_Name a thing I'm done which could be considered wise_, another, louder voice challenged. _I'm even ready to take a small beating if it ends this bloody boredom_. And with that thought he pushed the door open and stepped into the cold night air. One glance over the rooftop told him he had been right. _Oh, Will… You're becoming predict_-

His thoughts were cut off when he comprehended the scenery in front of him. Its lead actor was as calmly fabulous as usual, but this time the set was almost as breath taking. It seemed the whole city had experience a blackout. Only headlights of the cars illuminated the dark maze of streets. The everlasting glow was gone revealing a blue-black night sky and thousands of stars and the unprecedentedly beautiful Northern Lights. A brisk wind swirled snow as a sparkling whirls and played with a few tress of Will's raven hair.

He would have admired the scene a bit longer if Will hadn't bluntatmosphere. "I presume you've already done your reports since you have time to stand there," he said without even looking at him.

"Oh, yes, of course" Grell wake from the trance and stepped closer. "What's happening?"

"A massive solar flare has reached the Earth. It's messed the communication channels and is causing power cuts."

"Like 1859*. Although this one will probably create even more chaos." They stand a moment in silence watching the beautiful view. Grell estimated the distance for the edge of the roof and the drop deciding to keep a small distance before he continued: "You know, they say a child who's conceived under the Northern Lights will be intellect." He flashed his best flirtatious smile.

He could almost hear Will's thoughts: 'Don't react. Don't encourage him more. Don't react…' "I don't see how charged particles hitting atmosphere would increase anyone's fortune."

Before Grell was able to think up an answer for that an alarm went off somewhere near them.

"Ten minutes and someone's already taking the advantage of the disorder," Will noted light disgust in his voice and he turned to leave. "We have only half an hour until our shift begun. I would recommend you get ready."

* On both 28 August and 2 September 1859, there was a massive solar flare, which caused for instance radio disturbances. The Northern Lights were seen even as south as in Cuba.


End file.
